by P J Berman
‘Yes, though it must also be noted that if the King holds on to his position,’ Zethun said. ‘Then the people will have a ruler who will stop at nothing to consolidate his power. In that eventuality, we would have only one option left to us if we are to save this nation.’
The other two nodded grimly, showing that they were thinking in the same direction.
‘To depose the King and to fight for a republic,’ Zethun said.
RILDAYORDA, BASTALF, BENNVIKA
Sleep had been a long time coming for Silrith, after hearing news of the battle. Of course, she was highly encouraged by the victory, but she was very aware that this was just the start and that all the odds still pointed to Jostan prevailing sooner or later. But at least it appeared that for now, she’d saved the innocent and defenceless Hentani villagers from the slaughter Jostan would have hailed upon them. Yet now, instead, it was Rildayorda that was in danger. At least this city was strongly defended. She hoped she’d done the right thing. Eventually, after much tossing and turning, she drifted into a haunted slumber.
Outside, just around the corner at the end of the gloomy hallway, stood Vaezona, disguised as a militiaman. The spear was heavier than she’d expected and the helmet’s chinstrap dug in as it was rather too tight.
Behind her, keeping to the shadows, was the spy, still dressed in the long, ghostly black shawl with the white, laughing mask that seemed to mock Vaezona every time she looked at it.
‘I will remove the guard on the door, then we must ensure that he is disposed of. You know what is required of you after that,’ the spy said quietly.
Vaezona looked at the very tall, broad, spear-carrying Divisioman who was in full armour, save for his shield, standing guard barely ten metres away. She hoped that the spy’s plan would work.
The spy reached inside his shawl and pulled out a sling and a small, rounded stone. Vaezona wondered what sort of man, for she was certain by now that the spy was male, would have this as his weapon of choice.
Carefully he placed the stone in the sling, before whirling the weapon over his head. The sound caught the guard’s attention, but it was too late and with a venomous throw the spy sent the projectile hurtling towards him. Seeing her cue, Vaezona launched towards the man. The stone cracked him directly on the forehead. With a groan, he slumped backwards against the wall. Racing forward, Vaezona was there to grab his body before he could topple over, but she couldn’t quite catch his spear and she winced as it clattered horribly on the floor.
She didn’t dare breathe, expecting to hear calling voices any moment, but amazingly, none came. She’d got away with it. It was all she could do to keep from dropping the guard’s body. Gingerly she laid him on the floor, as the spy opened the door into the room next to the one the man had been guarding.
‘Take his legs,’ he said, as he pushed Vaezona aside and took hold of the man’s shoulders.
She picked up her spear and leaned it against the wall, then took a foot under each arm, holding his knees.
‘Now, lift,’ said the spy and they hauled the man upward. It was hard to grip on to his broad limbs and Vaezona felt sure he would slip from her grasp at any moment.
‘What are you doing?’
Vaezona almost dropped the man as she heard a female voice. She looked up and saw a young maid, wearing a long blue gown with a plain white headdress.
The tension in the maid’s face made her look as if she wanted to ask a thousand questions. She gasped and took a step back as the spy turned around and she saw the mask.
‘Do not be afraid, Avaresae,’ said the spy, lightening his voice, suddenly all kindness. They placed the guard on the floor and the spy walked over to the girl. His back was turned to Vaezona, but she saw him raise his hands to lift his mask and show Avaresae his face.
The maid visibly breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a man she evidently trusted and opened her mouth to speak, but the spy hushed her.
‘This man is a spy,’ he told her, indicating the guard. ‘I wear this mask because he must not know who is questioning him. We must find out what he knows and then dispose of him. Help us drag him in here.’
Vaezona thought of the irony of that statement, though she didn’t want to consider what would happen to her if she was caught.
‘Ok,’ Avaresae whispered with a nod, not looking entirely convinced, but evidently too fearful to do anything else. Vaezona felt sorry for Avaresae. Just like her, in a matter of moments, the maid had been haplessly drawn into the plans of those who thought themselves her betters.
Avaresae walked towards the guard’s body. Vaezona saw her hesitate as she looked at the wound to the man’s head, before picking up a leg. Vaezona took the other one, while the spy replaced his mask and hood, then held the guard under the shoulders. They heaved the man’s huge bulk towards the door and into the adjacent room.
Once through the door, they lay the body on the floor as quietly as they could. Vaezona went back out to fetch her spear, then returned and put the weapon on the ground. As she got back up, she looked around the room in the darkness. There was a large window at the far end and by the moonlight, it looked as if they were in a child’s room, though the small bed was empty.
She looked at Avaresae, breathing shallowly, her pulse racing. With tension etched across her face, Avaresae made to leave, but the spy grabbed her from behind with his hand held tightly over her mouth, stifling her attempts to scream.
‘Shut the door,’ he told Vaezona. She didn’t want to, but fear won through and she complied.
The spy laughed coldly at Avaresae’s pathetic attempts to break free of his embrace. While manhandling her towards the window, he overpowered her, leaning in and kissing the struggling girl on the head through the open mouth of his mask as he unsheathed his knife.
‘Apologies, Avaresae, but your part in this is over,’ he said and in one swift move he pushed her against the wall and sliced the girl’s throat open. Her eyes bulged for a moment as a torrent of blood burst out of her veins and down her body.
Vaezona watched in horror as Avaresae’s legs seemed to buckle and the spy slowly laid her jerking body on the floor as her blood pooled around her. The girl burbled something but he simply hushed her in a tone full of mock compassion.
‘Go quietly my love,’ he said.
Vaezona saw Avaresae hold his gaze one more moment, then the maid’s strength failed and she could hold on no more. It was the first time Vaezona had seen someone murdered. The fear was paralysing. She’d told herself before that it was no different from witnessing the death of livestock or even seeing soldiers falling in the battle in the forest, but it wasn’t true.
‘First time you’ve seen a murder?’ the spy asked. ‘Well, you better get used to it.’
The guard groaned.
‘He’s coming round,’ the spy said, opening the large window. ‘Help me carry him.’
Vaezona didn’t move. The spy looked at her, though the mask blocked his expression.
‘I said, help me carry him,’ he repeated.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Vaezona.
‘We must drop the bodies. The window looks out on to the city, so there’s a good chance that in the darkness they won’t be found until morning. If we drop them together, those who find them might think it’s some kind of double suicide. We must be long gone by the time they work out the truth. Now, help me lift the bodies.’
Vaezona hesitated. The spy laughed, then lurched forward, taking her by surprise. He roughly grabbed her collar and pulled her towards the window, before wrenching her upwards. Vaezona tried to fight back as he lifted her on to the window ledge, but he was too strong and she could do nothing about his iron grip on her neck. He thrust his arm forward so that her entire head and shoulders were out of the window.
‘Do you defy me? You do exactly what I say. Do you hear?’ he raged.
Vaezona couldn’t help but look down at the streets far below, their buildings all lit up like little candles
surrounded by revelling stick-men. One more push from the spy and she’d fall to her death.
‘Yes,’ Vaezona gasped, struggling to breathe as his fist began to suffocate her and her legs flailed in a desperate attempt to find hard ground.
‘Do you?’ said the spy.
‘Yes,’ shouted Vaezona.
He paused, looking right at her through the dead eyes of the mask. He relented and pulled her back. Vaezona was still in a state of shock as her feet felt solid ground again.
She expected him to say something, but he didn’t. As she watched, the spy picked up Avaresae’s bloodied corpse and placed it on top of the unconscious guard. Her head lolled backwards and the deep wound in her neck gaped open, still oozing blood, yet her eyes seemed to lock on to Vaezona’s, just for a moment and then it was gone. Was that an accusing look in her eye?
Vaezona shuddered, feeling like the blood was draining from her body, just like Avaresae’s. She turned away but then turned back again. How could she complete her mission and save her father if she let fear rule her like this? She must be strong, she told herself, whatever she had to do. She tried to clear her mind, telling herself that it was all to save her father. She touched the handle of the knife in her belt.
The spy took the guard’s shoulders and Vaezona took the legs, with Avaresae’s delicate form balanced on top. Vaezona was glad to be at Avaresae’s feet, away from those ghostly eyes. They heaved the bodies towards the window.
With one final pull, the spy managed to lay the guard’s upper body on the window ledge. Then he gave a hard push and the man’s legs were ripped from Vaezona’s grasp as the weight of his armour pulled him downward and he plummeted to his death, dragging the maid’s corpse with him.
There was an ear-splitting crash as muscle, bone and steel hit the ground. Vaezona hoped that most people who had heard it assumed it was some brawl breaking out somewhere. Still, she questioned the logic of dropping the bodies into a public place. Surely that severely limited their escape time? But then, did the spy even need to get out? Avaresae’s recognition of him suggested that she knew him. Maybe once the mission was complete he could simply drop the disguise and carry on in the citadel being whoever he really was? She was sure he didn’t care what happened to her, but the potential implications of that didn’t bear thinking about.
She wanted to lunge at him and kill him, but he had already shown that he was far stronger than her and she didn’t plan on suffering the same fate as the guard and Avaresae.
‘It is inevitable that the bodies will be found soon. So will the blood in here. Leave me to deal with that. You must work quickly if we are to escape notice. Go now.’
Vaezona wondered why the spy wasn’t going in there himself. Maybe it was because Jostan thought she was more expendable than him? She had no choice, whatever the reason. This was the only way for her to save her father.
Heeding the spy’s instructions, she picked up her spear and opened the door. She looked both ways down the empty corridor before exiting, with the spy behind her. He ushered her in the direction of the next one with a small push, then retreated back into the first room and shut the door behind him.
Vaezona approached the door into the next room along and took hold of the handle. She paused a moment, running Jostan’s pledge through her mind once more. Do this for him and her father would be set free. It didn’t matter now that she’d gained entry to the citadel through capture. She had the chance to save her father. There was no avoiding what she had to do now.
Quietly she turned the latch. The creak of the wooden door seemed unbelievably loud as she opened it, but no further noise followed, so she crept in. She took care to quietly lean her spear against the wall with one hand while clicking the door shut with the other.
As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she began to make out some of the details of the room and was immediately drawn to Princess Silrith’s sleeping form in the large bed at the far end. Vaezona shuddered, unable to quite comprehend what she was about to do. She removed her leather gloves and tucked them under her belt. Barely making a sound as she placed one foot in front of the other, she drew closer to the bed.
She saw that Silrith was lying on her back and was wearing a white nightshirt, which exposed her neck. She desperately tried to think of Silrith as if she were no more than a goat or pig. She’d killed animals before, but killing a person was different. She’d just seen that. Her hands were growing clammy with sweat and the blade of her knife rasped in its sheath as she drew it.
Silrith mumbled something in her sleep, turning on to her front, disturbed but not woken by the slight noise.
Gods, Vaezona cursed internally. She didn’t want to go through with this and something to make her hesitate was the last thing she needed. The sound of Silrith’s voice had been an unwelcome reminder of her humanity.
She also had no idea which part of the back to stab to inflict a death blow. Maybe she could lean over and still open the neck from where she was? She had to do it. She would risk eternal damnation in the afterlife for murder, but maybe she would escape it given that it was an act to save her father. If only she could just find the courage to cut this girl’s throat, the danger to him would be over, wouldn’t it? She tried to think of how the spy did it, but she’d been so shocked and the attack so swift that she hadn’t taken in exactly how he’d done it.
She wondered if the spy had managed to clear the blood away in the next room and if so how. Either way, she could imagine his next move would be to hover out of sight in the corridor somewhere, watching the door to make sure she completed her mission.
She was taking a life to save a life. She told herself that same sentence again and again, trying to summon up the courage to kill the girl. After all, Silrith was the enemy of the man who kept her father captive. The glistening cold steel of the knife hovered little more than an inch away from the girl’s skin. Looking at the blade, Vaezona almost had the feeling that it was somebody else’s hand holding it and not her own.
She reached out with her free hand to lightly move Silrith’s dark hair out of the way, exposing again the vulnerable flesh of her neck. Her blood turned to ice as the young Princess’s eyelids flickered open. Silrith turned her head and instantly those piercing dark eyes locked on to her assailant. The Princess flipped herself over and threw herself at Vaezona, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall. The knife dropped out of Vaezona’s hand and clanged on the floor. Desperately she tried to remove Silrith’s hands from her neck as the Princess’ thumbs pressed down on her windpipe.
As she fought to breathe and to break free, she saw the sheer anger and ferocity in Silrith’s face; her teeth clenched and her eyes bulging with rage. Vaezona tried to throttle Silrith, but she had nothing of the Princess’ physical strength. Suddenly Silrith grabbed Vaezona’s shoulders, wrenched her towards her and ripped off her helmet, before hurling her backwards. Vaezona’s head crashed against one of the cabinets and she collapsed on the floor.
Dazed by the impact, she lay there sprawled on her back as blood trickled down her face. Her head throbbed as she tried to regain her senses. She heard Silrith calling for her guards. She tried to get up, but a sharp kick in the ribs from the Princess had her down on the floor again, winded. She heard many running footsteps and the room lit up as the door flew open.
‘My Queen, are you alright?’ asked a broad man in civilian clothing, who was accompanied by a group of Divisio guardsmen. Silrith placed her foot on Vaezona’s chest to hold her down, while her long nightshirt and trousers ensured that she kept her modesty, at least mostly. Vaezona begrudgingly respected Silrith for retaining such a commanding presence even when dressed in such a way.
‘I am well, thank you, Gasbron,’ Silrith told the man. He may not have been in uniform as the others were, instead wearing a simple grey tunic and breeches, but the other men kept behind him as if he was in charge.
‘I am relieved to see that, my Queen,’ said Gasbron.
/> ‘Your speed is appreciated,’ said Silrith briskly, pressing her foot harder into Vaezona’s chest. ‘Now, take her away. Have a physician see to that wound, then find out whatever you can from her. But do not torture her until tomorrow. I’d like to question her personally in the morning.’
Vaezona was surprised by Silrith’s sudden turn of mercy. She wondered how long it would last. But the glimmer of hope did nothing to assuage her panic. She prayed her fear didn’t show. She didn’t offer up any resistance as the guards roughly picked her up and carried her away. Doing so might affect whether or not Silrith continued to show mercy later. Instead, Vaezona frantically tried to work out what to do and prayed to the Gods for her father’s life – and now her own as well.
Chapter 16
After another training session the following day, Silrith knew it was time to face the sorry business of questioning her prisoner. As she had ordered, there was a guard waiting for her in the inner ward upon her return, ready to show her to the dungeons. So, still wearing her leather jerkin, breeches, boots and a full weapons belt, she left Gasbron and his troops and headed deeper into the citadel. On the outside of the main building, there was an innocuous-looking wooden door. The guard opened it and led her down a deep staircase.
There was a palpable drop in temperature as Silrith descended the stone steps, following the torch-carrying guard down to the dungeons below. The screams and groans from within, which were so faint they could be missed completely when one stood at the top of the stairs, had now become so loud that they pierced into the darkest depths of Silrith’s soul as she neared the bottom. She still felt incredibly shaken and vulnerable after the previous night’s events, but she knew nobody could be allowed to see it, so she kept a stone-faced expression.
‘What you’re about to see is fairly standard procedure, my Queen,’ said the guard nonchalantly.